


mayday

by 99yeon



Category: TWICE (Band)
Genre: F/F, Smut, cliche fwb au, you know how it goes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-27
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2019-02-07 17:21:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12845874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/99yeon/pseuds/99yeon
Summary: "i'm sorry," sana pouts, sliding a hand against jeongyeon's waist, "how can i make it up to you?"





	mayday

the first day jeongyeon brings her home, they fumble, because neither of them know each other well enough to mold themselves into mirror images of each other. they're not a couple, just a couple of people who met a while ago. so they fumble, and burn with an almost laughable passion that threatens to swallow them whole.

 

and here's what happens - jeongyeon presses her keycard against sana's ass for a solid five seconds, wondering out loud why it isn't working before sana laughs deliciously and moves out of the way, with a little sigh that makes jeongyeon less determined to open the door and more dead-set on just staying pressed up against sana.

 

and really, you can't blame her. sana is magical, in more ways than one - her eyes dark and dangerous, and jeongyeon finds her wet and willing and wanting. she's half-expecting herself to realize that this is a dream at some point or another. maybe when sana helps her out of the tight jeans that have no place on her body right now, or when she bites particularly hard against jeongyeon's throat.

 

jeongyeon is still waiting when sana scrapes her teeth against her stomach, staring up at her with _those_ eyes, and fuck, this isn't a dream, is it?

 

sana only stops once the whole time she has her head buried between jeongyeon's thighs, and it's to look for her phone to turn on her sex music playlist on spotify. jeongyeon listens to a total of five ads in the time it takes for sana to make her come three times in a row.

 

sana's gone in the morning, with nothing but her number on the back of an old takeout receipt tacked to jeongyeon's door. she wants to laugh.

 

-

 

they find each other again, of course, because it would be a sin not to do whatever they did again, but just harder and faster and possibly kinkier this time.

 

so here's how it happens:

 

"i think i owe you an orgasm or two," jeongyeon smirks, leaning against the booth where sana and her friends are seated in a way she hopes is less douchey and more charming. the way she says it makes one of sana's friends gasp out loud and clamp her hand over her mouth.

 

sana whispers something in her friend's ear before standing up and pulling jeongyeon by the ear.

 

"ow- FUCK what are you doing-"

 

"is that how you talk to women?" sana purrs, tugging a little harder, jeongyeon swears her ear might fall off. "bring up their bedroom escapades in front of polite company?"

 

"i'm sorry- ow-" jeongyeon writhes out of sana's grasp, narrowing her eyes at sana. sana throws her head back and laughs, baring the pale column of her throat, and jeongyeon sees her own hunger reflected in her eyes. "that was mean."

 

"i'm sorry," sana pouts, sliding a hand against jeongyeon's waist, "how can i make it up to you?"

 

-

 

the second time they go home together, jeongyeon is barely buzzed, having skipped pregaming entirely and only having been in the bar for around half an hour before she and sana ran into each other. and as for sana - well, she can't tell. sana is giggling quietly into her hand, and only looks up at jeongyeon with sparkling eyes when jeongyeon asks her what's up.

 

"everything's up" is sana's reply, and jeongyeon shrugs and takes it as that, distracted by the way sana is intertwining their hands together. she hates holding hands, honestly, hates the way it makes her own hand sweaty and moist and clammy, how it never feels natural, but sana's touch is soft, her thumb skimming over jeongyeon's pulse point as she pulls her along the street.

 

sana insists on the two of them skipping all the way back to jeongyeon's apartment building, any residual giggles gobbled up by the air immediately when they get into the lift.

 

jeongyeon moans in surprise when sana shoves her against the mirrored walls of the elevator, "s-sana-"

 

"shut up," sana growls, and kisses her roughly. there's a hand making its way in between jeongyeon's legs, another hand feeling her up, and jeongyeon gasps into sana's mouth, feeling dangerously out of her comfort zone but loving it anyway. sana pants and grinds against her, and it's so wanton and explicit, feels like something they shouldn't be doing.

 

they stagger out of the lift together, every sensible, prim and proper brain cell in jeongyeon being completely obstructed and crushed with her libido. sana's the one to lead them to jeongyeon's unit, jeongyeon jogging behind her and fishing for her keycard so whatever happened the first time doesn't happen again.

 

jeongyeon laughs lowly, "since when did you remember which unit i live in?"

 

"i never forget a thing," sana murmurs, tapping her head.

 

-

 

the thing about jeongyeon is that she likes routine. she isn't a party animal - she was, in high school, but that ended when she went to college and she just had that lifestyle for the friends, honestly - and she isn't a playgirl. she likes going to the bar to unwind on friday nights, talk to the bartender for as long as it takes to finish a few drinks before going home. it's never a matter of finding new conquests, never about who she meets. it's about herself, and she appreciates this alone time.

 

chaeyoung knows this, and she glances at jeongyeon worriedly over polishing a glass. jeongyeon is one of the five patrons in the bar right now, the usual wave of partiers out of town on winter break. they've been friends for ages, but sometimes, chaeyoung feels like she might not know jeongyeon that well.

 

"you... okay?"

 

"hm? yeah, i'm more than okay," jeongyeon responds mindlessly, eyes and thumbs preoccupied with texting sana. she looks up when chaeyoung doesn't respond, the young bartender still rubbing at the glass with a rag. "why?"

 

chaeyoung shrugs, "i saw you leaving with that girl the other day."

 

"and?"

 

"nothing. i'm just saying, you've never gone home with someone before. although," chaeyoung grins, "it's probably due to your lack of game."

 

"screw off," jeongyeon growls, swatting chaeyoung's hand away when she tries to ruffle jeongyeon's hair. "i'll have you know that i have plenty of game."

 

"oh, really?"

 

"yes. i'm texting _that_ girl right now, as matter of fact," jeongyeon shows her blindingly bright phone screen off to chaeyoung. chaeyoung squints at the screen for a total of five seconds, looking extremely judgemental of sana's habit of using multiple emojis in one message. the most recent text is _see u tmrw!!!! xDD_ with a few heart-eye emojis.

 

"didn't know you had a thing for japanese girls," chaeyoung whistles, and jeongyeon flips her off.

 

despite chaeyoung relentlessly making fun of her for it, jeongyeon and sana texting becomes a regular thing. jeongyeon wakes up most mornings with some corny good-morning text from sana, or some life update in one way or another, about how sana totally got scammed from the street food vendor, or how she's upset that her favourite girl group is disbanding. it's not jeongyeon's routine, but it _is_ a routine.

 

and sana being heart-stoppingly pretty doesn't hurt.

 

-

 

the keycard thing happens a second time, the third time they go home together. they're both horribly, horribly drunk, sana having muttered something about how she didn't want to spend money on an uber at this time of the night and wouldn't jeongyeon's home be much better with her in it anyway? this time, sana plucks the card from jeongyeon's fingertips and holds it between her teeth to scan it. they kiss until jeongyeon can't tell if the lipstick on her face is her own or sana's, and it's messy and enjoyable.

 

jeongyeon doesn't remember if they end up sleeping together or not, just that there's a lot of blanket shifting and excited yells from both of them. sana even compliments the art print on the wall that jeongyeon got off ebay at one point. that much she remembers. she says that the colours go well together. jeongyeon thinks she cries.

 

she wakes up to sana eating her favourite cereal in the kitchen, and tries to think of a funny quip to greet her until sana calls out, "i can see you hiding around the corner, jeong."

 

jeongyeon groans, her headache worsening with the brightness of sana's smile. sana is infuriatingly chipper for so early in the morning, and looks to have made herself comfortable in jeongyeon's place sooner than jeongyeon could introduce her to it.

 

"how long have you been up?"

 

"long enough to know that giraffes and humans have the same number of bones in their necks," sana says, reading off the back of the cereal box. her phone is plugged into the wall, which explains why she isn't on her phone - sana is pretty much always on her phone.

 

jeongyeon slumps into the seat across from sana, knocking her head on the table, "that can't be true."

 

"well, it is. it's just the bones that are different lengths."

 

"you're a maniac," jeongyeon complains, and sana smiles.

 

-

 

it takes the fourth visit for them to establish something between them, when jeongyeon realizes that sana knows the passcode to her apartment unit, and that she knows where her secret stash of fabric softener is kept. (nayeon's known jeongyeon for seven years and she _still_ doesn't know, so this is a surprise.)

 

as do all things, this comes during pillow talk. sana's cheeks are still flushed from the intensity of the messy, wet orgasms jeongyeon had given her in quick succession, her eyes fluttering lazily. jeongyeon had hurried them both out of bed and into the bathroom to wipe themselves clean because _'those sheets are new_ ', and sana had whined the whole time.

 

"what are we?" jeongyeon asks, because she's so, _so_ predictable. it feels like a chick flick, the two of them staring at the ceiling, side by side. the sheets stick to jeongyeon's skin, but she doesn't care, not when sana is pressed up so close to her.

 

sana hums, voice soft and high, "people who sleep together."

 

the answer is so absurd that jeongyeon breaks into a goofy smile, more out of surprise and panic than actual amusement.

 

she leans in, "are you, by any chance-"

 

"not really." sana looks away guiltily, wiping away sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand. "i'm not really... looking for anything serious right now."

 

that is easy. jeongyeon can accept that, she tells herself, because that's something she can appreciate, too. no frills, no complicated relationship to wrangle with, no drama. just a devastatingly pretty girl and her mouth and fingers.

 

things are never that simple.

 

-

 

and just like that -- sana makes her way into her life. there are changes of clothes for sana in jeongyeon's closet, from one night when sana decides that she doesn't want to take frequent walks of shame back to her own apartment. the box of cereal in jeongyeon's kitchen gets replenished more often, because sana likes it too and won't stop eating it. sana leaves her chargers lying around in jeongyeon's room, and whines when jeongyeon unplugs them and bundles them up in rubberbands.

 

"you've got to stop _cleaning_ ," sana insists, swinging her legs as she watches jeongyeon store a few hair ties into a ziplock marked 'sana'. sana loses her hairties with incredible frequency, which is always an inconvenience, because she likes tying her hair up before she goes down on jeongyeon and-- need she say more?

 

(jeongyeon may or may not have developed a pavlovian reaction to sana tying her hair into a ponytail. she'd spent the entire of yesterday's dinner hot and bothered because sana tied her hair to keep from sweating.)

 

sana looks around the room, shaking her head disapprovingly, "what are you going to do with so much order in your life, yoo jeongyeon?"

 

"what do you mean," jeongyeon huffs. "you need order to _live_."

 

"wrong," sana retorts. "a little bit of dirtiness is good! it shows that your home's been lived in."

 

"if your idea of _lived in_ is _filthy_ , i'll have to respectfully refuse that concept."

 

sana kicks out petulantly, "it's not that."

 

she never does explain.

 

-

 

like this, it happens - with sana perched on every surface in jeongyeon's house, following her dutifully from room to room as jeongyeon cleans up the already immaculate apartment. the only slightly messy rooms are the ones where sana had been in, and she's guilty enough to offer a helping hand.

 

it's not just about cleaning up, though. in one, two, three, four, five days, sana works her way into jeongyeon's space. her perfume bottles take up space on the bookshelf, expensive titles with names that jeongyeon can't pronunce but sana is a snob about. to her credit, jeongyeon is pretty snobby about how she can name all the pokemon too.

 

sleeping together becomes more of a game than something passionate and serious. it's still rough and passionate, but sana pauses between kisses to giggle something about how sensitive jeongyeon is, or complain about how the figurine on jeongyeon's bedside table looks like it's watching her and will she please move it. she's always so, so cute in the most exlpicit of moments, and jeongyeon marvels at the duality of this girl.

 

no frills. that's what they'd promised, but as time passes, jeongyeon doesn't think she can keep to that.

 

-

 

they meet once, outside the bar, away from the cover of darkness and jeongyeon's tiny apartment. it's a work function, an exhibition held in the east side of town. jeongyeon has a little booth, and is idly sitting there, waiting for people to come up to her so she can deliver a practised sales pitch.

 

she scans the crowd. the crowd is concentrated in another part of the exhibition hall, something jeongyeon has no complaints about. she's tired, irritable, and wants to go home. the other firms here seem to echo her sentiments, the interns they posted to their booths checking their watches impatiently.

 

a pair of women come up to jeongyeon's booth, and she mentally prepares herself, putting on her waxy smile and glazed-over salesperson eyes before turning around.

 

"hi! i was hoping you'd tell me more about your firm," one of the women gushes, eyes twinkling, but jeongyeon pays no attention to her, because sana is standing right next to her, looking as if she's seen a ghost.

 

"jeongyeon?"

 

"you know each other?" sana's colleague laughs, "what a small world! how did the two of you meet?"

 

the two of them lock eyes, and jeongyeon prays that they have enough telepathy to pull this off.

 

"college-"

 

"high school-"

 

silence. jeongyeon wants to die.

 

"high school and college," she says, trying to play it off as a joke with a well-meaning shrug of her shoulders. sana nods along, trying not to make eye contact with jeongyeon. "we've been friends for a while." this pokes a whole new set of holes into their story, like why they were so surprised to see each other, but jeongyeon prays that sana's colleague just lets it go.

 

"oh?" the colleague frowns., seemingly having read jeongyeon's mind. "i've never heard sana talk about you."

 

"maybe not to you, but i tell everyone about her," sana chirps, pulling her colleague away by the arm. she turns around to look at jeongyeon, "see you around."

 

jeongyeon's reward for this insufferably long workday ends up being sana on her lap in her car later on, whimpering and moaning into jeongyeon till she thinks she might just explode. it's a picture-perfect moment, and it should feel like they got away with the biggest of heists earlier in the day when she sees sana, but it sure isn't that way. sana hums distractedly when jeongyeon mentions it, pressing down on her thigh and telling her to forget about it.

 

jeongyeon wonders why she has to, but sana insists, and so she does.

 

-

 

sana is not a heartbreaker. jeongyeon knows that. she can't blame sana for being so goddamn easy to fall for, and yet she finds herself scratching her nails over sana's contact, the ditzy contact profile picture grinning back at her mockingly. (where was that even taken? who took it for her?) sana looks good in it.

 

she told jeongyeon exactly what she wanted, and that makes it entirely jeongyeon's fault that this is happening. it'd be disrespectful to sana to insist on being more than fuckbuddies, because jeongyeon has herself convinced that she wants what sana does. sana wants no complications, and jeongyeon wants the same. there's no difference between the two of them.

 

except that there is. jeongyeon likes routines and fixed things to give her comfort, and sana lives life by the minute, never making solid plans till she's in the moment. jeongyeon's idea of a good time is staying in and catching up on the latest drama on tv, or treating herself to a good meal. sana lives her life ten times the speed that jeongyeon does. jeongyeon has friends like chaeyoung and nayeon, and sana... oh god, who is sana even friends with? why doesn't jeongyeon know who sana's friends with?

 

it's not sana's fault, she reminds herself, and that's another difference - sana keeps every aspect of her life compartentalized and neatly separated. jeongyeon can't do that. sana isn't stupid. she knows when things are falling apart, but will make no move to intervene until they're destroyed.

 

jeongyeon isn't going to do that.

 

-

 

it feels like sana's in love with her, too, sometimes, when she smiles real wide and her eyes scrunch up and they're just dark pools of affection. or when she slings her arm over jeongyeon's shoulder to pull her close when they're watching netflix, a move that's so painfully awkward that jeongyeon convinces herself that it must mean something.

 

sana is always so happy, and jeongyeon doesn't say anything, fearing that it'll make all of this stop. it'd be selfish of her to tell sana to stop expressing herself the only way she knows how. how is she supposed to tell sana that cheek kisses may or may not convey what she actually means? _hey, sana, stop blushing when i say you're pretty. that's not something a fuckbuddy should do._

 

these moments are fleeting, and they always leave jeongyeon feeling foolish after, but she lives for the moment, hangs in the balance and just wishes for it not to end. if she could suspend them in time forever, revisit it as and when she likes, she would.

 

the reality she comes back to is always cruel.

 

-

 

sana's lips are always sticky against hers, honey sweet because of all the lip gloss sana has on. tonight, though, it's different. sana still pants against her neck, still bites impatiently, and everything is still _there_ , in a sense, still whole and not fractured and fragmented like what they are now. it makes jeongyeon think for a moment that maybe, just maybe, this might all be in her mind.

 

she thinks about how sana had mentioned that she forgets nothing and smiles, bittersweet. did she forget the part where they agreed to have nothing between them but sex?

 

jeongyeon hasn't felt this awkward since the first night they were together, when they knocked against corners and countertops and squeaked out in surprise because they were too wrapped up in each other. she feels cold against sana, and the younger girl withdraws, thighs still bracketing around jeongyeon's waist as she looks up at her, eyes wide.

 

"what's wrong?"

 

the look on her face must give her away, because the confusion in sana's eyes clears, "oh."

 

"i can't do this any more," jeongyeon mumbles. "and i thought that you wouldn't be able to, and..." she trails off hopefully.

 

sana looks away, and jeongyeon prays that if there's one thing sana doesn't remember, it's this moment.

 

-

 

it's not dramatic, in the end. sana leaves without much fuss, collecting her spare shirts and shorts from jeongyeon's closet and stuffing them into a plastic bag she finds from under the sink.

 

"i'm sorry," she says quietly, standing in the middle of jeongyeon's living room.

 

jeongyeon sits with her back to her, eyes squeezed shut.

 

sana tries again, "i really am, you know."

 

"none of this is your fault," jeongyeon replies, and it's stiff as she tries to force back the emotions bubbling in her throat. sana hears it, the barely concealed restraint, and she must think that this is an act for jeongyeon. that jeongyeon thinks that being emotional will pull sana back to her.

 

that's not true. none of that is true.

 

"but i-"

 

"not your fault," jeongyeon repeats. "we're just people who slept together."

 

a pause. "bye, jeongyeon."

 

the door closes, and jeongyeon blinks hard.

 

-

 

she puts on rubber gloves and scrubs every inch of sana from her bathroom, tossing all of sana's things out. there are some things which sana never used, or things that sana bought for jeongyeon. like that minnie-mouse shaped egg pan, or the charcoal-bristled toothbrush that claimed to remove plaque at double the speed as other toothbrushes. ("how does that make sense?" jeongyeon complained, "it's a toothbrush.) they aren't sana's, but she bought them, and it feels wrong to keep them here. everything feels wrong.

 

she throws out the composition notebook they bought together one night after deciding to become songwriters. they never got anywhere with it, but it was nice, just to open up a notebook and scrawl on it and close it, away from the eyes of the world when it was done. that sort of letting go was fun, but sana always did have more fun than her.

 

she throws out the spare boxes of cereal, reasoning that she won't finish them anyway. she doesn't have the appetite, not when all she can think about is sana sitting, half-dressed, at her kitchen table, spooning cereal and reading the back of the boxes with that squint of hers. probably while sounding these fun facts out to jeongyeon, too, as if jeongyeon needs to hear fun facts at 7am in the morning.

 

 _hey jeongyeon_ , she'd go. _did you know? you're more likely to fall in love with someone if you meet them in a dangerous situation._

_that's weird,_ jeongyeon would reply, and sana would just laugh.

 


End file.
